Choices
by PACTNMMT
Summary: We all have to make choices in different stages of our lives. What choices does Ducky make and how will they affect Team Gibbs? Major Character death NO SLASH
1. Chapter 1

A/N This is my first fanfiction story. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.

Friendship, angst

Chapter 1

Ducky drove to his Reston house hardly remembering the trip home. He felt old and tired and every bit of his 70 plus years. He sat in his lovingly restored Morgan, the keys held loosely in hand as he stared out the windshield. The autumnal sun set as the good doctor sat unmoving, deep in thought about the events of the day starting with the trip out into the field.

….....................................................................................................................................

A call to NCIS sent Gibb's team out to a state park in northern Virginia. A navy commander's sedan was found at the bottom of a 60 foot slope. In it the bodies of the commander and his young daughter were found. The ME truck arrived shortly after Jethro Gibbs team. Ducky grabbed his bag and looked down the steep hill for the best way to descend. The slope was covered with brush and snags from fallen trees, but there seemed to be a game trail that looked like the easiest way down. "Over here, Mr. Palmer," Ducky beckoned to his assistant. Slowly he made his way down, grabbing the trunks of young saplings for support and to slow his descent. Suddenly, Ducky's weak leg buckled as his foot caught in the roots of a tree. He cried out in surprise as his body pitched forward, somersaulting down the hill. He came to rest against the side of the demolished vehicle, his bad leg slamming into the vehicle's driver's door of the overturned car.

Jimmy Palmer, had followed closely behind Ducky and saw the older man trip. He tried to grab his mentor's elbow to steady him and yelled, "Look out, Dr. Mallard!" But his hand closed on empty air. Above them, agents Timothy McGee and Tony DiNozzo were measuring the car's skid marks and taking photographs. Upon hearing Ducky's yell and Palmer's cautionary cry they looked down just in time to see the ME's body hurtling uncontrolled to the bottom. They both yelled, "Ducky!" Horrified to see the ME stop with a loud thud against the car. McGee, instantly on his cell phone , called for an ambulance, just in case it was needed.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS team leader and Ziva David, were already at the crash site, having climbed down before Ducky and Jimmy Palmer had arrived . David was photographing the car and the surrounding area. Gibbs was taking measurements and sketches. From the far side of the car he had been watching Ducky's descent and marveled how his very good friend, at his age and with a weak leg was still able to get to a death scene in sometimes very difficult locations. He smiled, shaking his head and turned his attention back to the car. When Ducky cried out Gibbs looked up to see his friend of thirty years tumbling down the slope. The scene played out before him in slow motion. Ducky's hat came off after the first somersault lodging in a clump of nettles, his glasses flew off and landed on the side of the trail to his right. The crime scene valise landed next to a small boulder. Two somersaults later Ducky landed against the overturned vehicle. Silence...soon followed by a loud moan.

"Ducky! Ducky!" Gibbs closely followed by Ziva ran to the other side of the car in time to see his friend open his eyes and attempt to sit up. Gibbs bent down and placed his hands on Ducky's shoulders to keep him from trying to get up in case there were any serious injuries. Pain registered in the doctor's face and it was hard for Gibbs to tell whether the unfocused expression in Ducky's eyes was because he was dazed or because he had lost his glasses. "Duck, are you okay? Are you hurt!"

"No, no, just my pride and dignity, Jethro." He looked up into Jethro's face and blinked several times to clear his vision. Moving a very stiff and bloody hand he pushed at the bridge of his nose to adjust his glasses. That was when he realized they were missing.

"Dr. Mallard, are you okay?" Jimmy ran up to the doctor, knelt to run his hand over Ducky's arms and legs to check for broken bones or sprains. The ME winced as Palmer touched his right leg, but he denied there was any problem.

"No, Jimmy, I'm fine, but please be a dear fellow and find my glasses, I can't see a thing without them."

"Of course, Doctor. I'll be right back."

"Here, Duck, let me help you," said Jethro as he placed his hands under Ducky's arms and helped him into a sitting position resting against the side of the damaged car. As he did so Ducky bit his lip trying to hold back an anguished cry grabbing his leg. Gibbs reached over to brush the doctor's hair out of his eyes to get a better look at his face which was drawn and pale. "Looks like you just earned a ride to the ER, Duck! You need to get checked over."

"No, Jethro, that is quite unnecessary, I'll be fine. Nothing that a good soak in hot water and the aid of a medicinal shot of single malt scotch can't fix." But then a sharp pain ran the length of his leg, beginning in his hip. He felt his muscles stiffening he muttered, "Maybe several shots of scotch, instead."

"Doctor, I found your glasses ." Jimmy handed them to Ducky who put them on. Immediately, his vision was clear.

"Thank you, my dear boy! That is ever so much better." Ducky pushed against the demolished vehicle and used it for support as he tried to raise himself from a sitting position. A sharp intake of breath alerted Gibbs who watched his old friend with concern. Ducky sank back down and took slow deep breaths to work through the pain. Perspiration beaded on his forehead and upper lip.

"That's it, Duck, you're outta here. Gibbs spoke to Ziva who had been taking photos of the crash site. "Ziva, I need you to continue with processing the scene down here, while Palmer handles the bodies. I'm going to get Ducky to the hospital and have him checked out."

"Of course, Gibbs. Ducky, is there anything I can do to help?" asked Ziva.

"No,no my dear, thank you anyway," Duck said between clenched teeth. "Jethro, my friend," he asked quietly, "just how do you propose getting me up that hill? I don't think I'm going to be able to walk up and I sure as hell am not going up on a stretcher!"

Gibbs half smiled at the tone of Ducky's voice. He knew the doctor was starting a stubborn streak that would be hard to argue with.

"I'll help you, Ducky. Just put your arm around my shoulder and I'll take you up."

Ducky smiled with a bemused look. "This ought to be interesting considering our height differences, Jethro. I can't think of a better way to strain your back or injure your bad knee! No, I will not permit it." A look of surrender touched his eyes and his voice softened. " Have the paramedics bring down the stretcher, I can suffer a bit of indignity."

Ducky spoke with a calmness that belied his inner emotions. To have to be hauled up the hill like a sack of potatoes on a board, instead of climbing up under his own power was embarrassing. But he swallowed his pride and maintained a cheery attitude for the benefit of those watching the proceedings.

Gibbs climbed up with Ducky, keeping his hand on his friend's forearm. He could feel the ME's muscles bunch, guarding against the pain that with every jolt traveled through the doctor's leg.

McGee and DiNozzo met the EMT's at the crest of the hill and reached down to assist them with the stretcher. Ducky looked up to see the looks of concern etched in each of the young agents' faces.

"Ducky, that was quite a fall! Are you alright?"

"No DiNozzo, he is not alright!" quipped an irritated Gibbs. "We always carry members of our team up hills on a stretcher just for the fun of it!" He punctuated the last of the sentence with a head slap.

"DiNozzo, McGee...as soon as you are finished up here go down there and help Ziva finish up. Then help Palmer load up the bodies to be transported back to autopsy."

"Yes, Boss!" Both men chorused. McGee took a quick moment to touch Ducky's hand and look at the doctor.

"Hope every thing's okay Ducky. We'll be thinking of you," McGee said before turning to go down the hill."

"Thank you, Timothy. I'm sure everything will be just fine. Just a sprain here and there," replied Ducky.

But the look of strain on the doctor's face did not go unnoticed by Special Agent McGee.

The EMT's loaded Ducky into the ambulance. Gibbs started to climb in but the EMT's stopped him. "Sorry, Special Agent Gibbs, it's against policy to bring more than just the patient with us."

Gibbs set his jaw firmly and stared at them with hardened eyes. "I am not going to leave Dr. Mallard. He and I are good friends. Besides I am his power of attorney and authorized to sign any of the necessary papers. My services as a POA may or may not be needed, but I am coming anyway." The finality in his voice along with the famous Gibbs stare quashed any further comment from the EMT's.

Gibbs climbed into the ambulance and sat next to Ducky's gurney. The doors closed and the ambulance drove off.

As the dust settled behind the retreating ambulance, each of the team looked up in its direction, each one in his own thoughts, wishing Ducky well.

…....................................................................................................

Ducky's thoughts returned to the present. With a deep sigh Ducky pulled his overcoat's collar up about his neck to ward off the chill of the evening air. "I'm getting too old for this!" he groused. Slowly, he opened the door to the Morgan and with the aid of a cane provided by the hospital Dr. Mallard slowly limped up the sidewalk and into his dark home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dr. Mallard flipped on the switch bringing light into the dark hallway of his large home. It seemed even larger now that his mother was gone. He missed her greatly despite the fact that the last several years had been very stressful for him while trying to provide her with quality care. Alzheimers is such a dreadful disease, he mused. Victoria Mallard had passed away several months ago. The dogs, Welsh Pembroke Corgis, were gone. Ducky found good homes for each of them as he felt his work schedule left them home by themselves too much.

Hanging his overcoat and hat on the hall tree, Ducky limped to the downstairs powder room to relieve his bladder. As he washed up he looked in the mirror. The image looking back was hardly recognizable. Dark circles appeared under puffy eyes. His thick, once blond hair hung down over his forehead. Scrapes and abrasions from the fall framed his face. As he raised his hands and rubbed the bridge of his nose, the bandaged right hand was there to remind him of the cuts he had received from the rocks and gravel. "Well, Donald, if you aren't a mess!" he remarked to the image. Picking up the cane which had been hooked over the edge of the sink, Ducky left the powder room and slowly made his way into the parlor. After selecting Mozart's Symphony No. 40 in G Minor from his record collection he limped over to a cabinet where he took out a glass and decanter of scotch, poured two fingers of the amber spirits into the glass and sat down heavily into his favorite leather chair. Carefully he pulled his leg onto the ottoman, easing the pain. Sipping his scotch he settled further into his chair, closed his eyes once again let his thoughts go back to the earlier events of the day.

….....................................................................................................................................

After an hour wait in the ER, Ducky was wheeled down to Radiology for films to be taken of his leg. Another hour passed waiting for the ER doctor to read the film and enter the cubicle where Ducky and Gibbs were waiting.

"Well, Dr. Mallard, it doesn't look like there's anything broken, but you do have a bit of soft tissue damage, contusions, and a couple of strained ligaments. I suggest that you go home and get plenty of rest. Take a week off from work and stay off your feet for a couple of days. If you feel up to it you can begin exercising your leg in a couple of days," instructed Dr. Evans. "I'll have the physical therapist issue you a cane to help you get around more easily."

"I can't take a week off! Mr. Palmer is doing well, but there's too much of a back log for the lad to do it by himself," protested Ducky.

Gibbs put his hands on Ducky's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Duck, Jimmy will do just fine. It's important to give yourself time to let your leg mend."

Ducky started to argue, but Gibbs stopped him. "Look, Ducky, today's Thursday, that will give you tomorrow and the weekend to take it easy and you can see how you feel on Monday."

His old friend looked up at him and then away. "All right, Jethro, perhaps it's best."

…....................................................................................................................................

As Dr. Mallard listened to the music a seed of a plan was sown in the recesses of his brain. By the time the last measure of music was played, what had begun as an idle thought was now developed into a well thought out plan.

Taking a last sip of his drink, he got up and limped up the stairs to bed.

Monday morning

Donald Mallard's alarm had not even gone off, but force of habit was his wakeup call. At 5:45 a.m. sharp he opened his eyes and looked out the window. It was still dark outside as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed. The stiffness in his leg caused him to hesitate before putting his full weight on it. The pain had definitely subsided over the three days of rest, but Ducky kept the cane within reach just in case he moved wrong or had problem with his balance. The day started out just like any other day, but it wasn't. He had made a decision and now it was time to follow through.

As he stood at the mirror tying his bow tie his telephone rang. "Hello, Mallard's residence, Dr. Mallard speaking."

"Good morning, Ducky, how are you feeling today?" Gibbs asked.

"Jethro, good morning to you, too, my boy. I'm feeling much better thank you. As a matter of fact, I was just getting ready to drive in to work."

"Are you sure that's a wise thing to do, Duck?" the tone of concern could be heard in Gibbs voice.

"Oh, yes, my dear fellow, I'm just fine. I think I would go stir crazy if I just sat around doing nothing. Besides, I wouldn't want Mr. Palmer to get too comfortable running autopsy all by himself, now would I?"

"That's great, Duck, we'll see you soon." Gibbs hung up and the smile heard in his voice did not match the concerned look on his face. He was worried that his old friend might be rushing his recovery. And...there was something, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something in his old friend's demeanor that didn't quite sound right.

An hour later, Ducky walked out of the elevator onto the level of the Director's office and walked into the receptionist's office, closing the door behind him.

"Good morning, my dear," greeted Ducky with a sad half smile.

"Good morning,Dr. Mallard, I'm glad to see you are up and about. I heard about your fall last week. Oh, Director Vance is expecting you you may go right in."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is a shorter chapter than I had planned. This is not as easy as I thought. Since this seems to be more of a character study than an action story I'm hoping it doesn't drag too much for the readers. I don't believe in holding future chapters hostage if there are no reviews. But I would love to hear your thoughts and critiques, if you have any to share.**

Enjoy:

Chapter 3

"Dr. Mallard," Director Vance said, "I know this was a difficult decision, but I believe you are making the right choice."

"Thank you, Director, " Ducky said.

The door leading from Director Vance's office closed gently behind Dr. Mallard with an audible click, not much louder than a whisper, but it's finality struck a loud chord signaling an end to a long chapter of his life.

Ducky looked down on the bull pen from the landing above and watched as his friends went about their routine. Timothy and Abigail were working at Tim's computer writing a program that would help Abby with her face recogntion software. Anthony and Ziva were engaged in some casual banter about Tony's date last weekend. His dear friend Jethro Gibbs was on the phone following up on a detail of a recent case. With a quick glance to the ceiling Ducky took in a deep breath and released in a heavy sigh before descending the staircase. Normally he would have taken the elevator straight down to autopsy, but today was different. Slowly he stepped down the stairs unwilling to bring the news to his friends any faster. Gibbs was the only one to look up. Upon seeing his friend Gibbs gave him a quick grin, but before he could call out a greeting something about the look on Ducky's face registered and Gibbs knew that something was not quite right.

"Hey Duckman!" Abby ran to the foot of the steps to give Ducky a big hug. She noticed the cane and held her usual energetic greeting in check. Stopping just in front of him, she gave him a gentle hug.

Ducky returned the hug and then held her away from his so he could see her face. Looking up into her eyes, he gave her a sad smile and said, "I am fine, Abigail." Abby noted the less than enthusiastic returned greeting and the sad look in Ducky's eyes. She turned to Gibbs for some answers.

The rest of the team watched while Abby greeted their ME , they also noticed that something was not quite right. After exchanging quick glances of concern they also went over to join Abby in greeting Ducky and welcoming him back.

Only Gibbs stayed back watching and accessing the situation. Dr. Mallard excused himself from the rest of the group and walked over to Gibb's desk.

"Hello, Duck,welcome back. I'm glad to see you're feeling better. Still have the cane I see."

"Hello, Jethro. Well, yes, I thought I'd hang onto the cane a while, for effect," he said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

He started to move off towards the elevator, but Gibbs stopped him, holding onto his upper arm. He turned his old friend towards him lifting up the brim of Ducky's hat in order to see the doctor's eyes better. "Duck?" The unspoken question caused Ducky to break eye contact.

Looking down he said, "Well, now is as good of a time as ever." Sighing he said, "I'd rather do this only once, Jethro. Do you think you could summon Mr. Palmer and have him come up here?"

Once Jimmy Palmer arrived the whole team gathered around the ME to listen to what he had to say.

Ducky, who had been sitting against the edge of Gibb's desk, stood up and looked around at his good friends. "Yes, well, this isn't easy for me, but the best way to do this is to just come out and say it." He looked into the expectant gazes of each of his friends.

" In light of last week's event, I have been doing some some thinking and have made the decision to retire. I've given a month's notice so that Director Vance has time to hire a replacement. Now if you will excuse me, I have some work that needs doing."

With that he turned and entered the elevator to retreat to autopsy, leaving behind a stunned silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

DiNozzo was the first to find his voice. "Wow, sure wasn't expecting that!"

Abby ran up to Gibbs and threw her arms around him. "The Duckman isn't really going to retire is he, Gibbs? He's just tired, he'll feel better in a couple of days. You can't let him retire, Gibbs, you just can't!"

"Easy, Abs. I'll go talk to him." He guided Abby over to McGee who took her in his arms.

"What are you going to do?" asked Ziva.

"I'm going down to autopsy and try and talk some sense into him." He turned on his heel and headed for the elevator. He stopped at the doors and turned around pointing to the team. "Palmer, you stay here. I'll let you know when it's okay to go down to autopsy. As a mater of fact, all of you stay here!"

Gibbs stood outside of autopsy for just a moment and saw his old friend sitting at his desk. Not doing anything, just sitting. He barged in, "Dr. Mallard, just what in hell are you thinking!"

Ducky rose up and turned to meet his friend head on. He was expecting Gibbs and had a speech ready for him. "Jethro, my mind is made up. I had three and a half days to think this through and I would appreciate it if you would respect me enough to not try and talk me out of it."

"Not good enough, Doctor! I don't understa....."

"Jethro! Please." shouted Ducky his eyes hardened as he looked up at his friend matching glare for glare. "Don't make this any harder than it is. Truth is I should have done this years ago."

Gibbs stood with his mouth open to reply, but he looked into his friend's blue gray eyes and saw the resolve in them. He walked over and sat down in the extra chair by Ducky's desk. "I'm sorry, Duck, it's just such a surprise." Then a thought crossed his mind. He jumped up quickly and put his hands on Dr. Mallard's shoulders. "Duck, this isn't Vance's idea is it? Is he forcing you to retire? That son of a bitch! As sure as God made little green apples, I am gonna give him a piece of my mind." With that he spun around to leave autopsy.

"No, no, Jethro," Ducky grabbed Gibb's arm with the strength of someone much younger than his age, " this is completely my decision. No one is forcing me to do anything. Jethro, come sit down and I'll tell you about it." He steered Jethro back to his desk, opened up his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of scotch along with 2 glasses. He poured three fingers in each glass and handed one to Gibbs.

Twenty minutes later after Ducky explained his concerns of advancing physical limitations and the need to be able to explore new avenues while he was still able, he ended with, "...so Jethro, last week's accident merely served as a catalyst, or wake up call, if you will.. I want to be able to do other activities in my life while I still can. You can understand that, can't you?"

Gibbs sat quietly for a moment, then staring into his drink, "Yeah, Duck, I can." He lifted his eyes to look into Ducky's. " It's just hard to think of you no longer working here, we've been at this together, for a long time."

"Yes, Jethro, but I still have a month left. We'll just have to make the best of it, won't we?" he patted Gibbs knee and smiled. "It won't be that bad and I'm looking forward to what retirement will bring, I really am."

Gibbs sighed heavily and stood up and as Ducky stood with him, Gibbs pulled him into a strong embrace. "You have my full support, Duck, " he spoke into the older man's ear, "my full support."

With that, he drew back, put his arm around his friend's shoulders and they walked together to the doors Gibbs matching the pace of the ME's limping gait.

"Thanks, Jethro, you don't know how much that means to me." Dr. Mallard watched as his friend of thirty years entered the elevator and made eye contact with him as the doors slid closed. With a sigh and a quick smile he turned around and began to set about catching up on his work load.

Up in the bull pen all eyes turned towards the elevator as it dinged and the doors opened. All eyes watched Gibbs as he walked out and came toward them.

"Well? What did he say?" inquired Ziva.

"Yeah, Gibbs, did you talk him out of it?" Abby asked hopefully.

"No, I didn't. And none of you will try to do so either, is that clear?" declared Gibbs.

"What do you mean, Gibbs?"

"Exactly what I said, DiNozzo! I told Ducky that he has my full support." He punctuated the last statement with a glare that made it clear that the topic was closed to discussion.

"Is there anything we can do for Ducky?" McGee asked.

Gibbs smiled, looked at each of his agents, his friends, and said, "Yes there is. We're gonna give Ducky the best damn retirement party NCIS has ever seen. Abby, would you be in charge of it?"

"Oh, yea, Gibbs, what a terrific idea." The others nodded in agreement.

"Great, you have a month before his last day." Gibbs looked fondly at his team, then barked, "All right now, get back to work! The government doesn't pay you to sit around on your asses all day."

**A/N: One more chapter, maybe two, to go. If you're so inclined, I'd love to read your reviews to see what you think. Thanks for reading my story!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Several days later, Abby had an opportunity to venture down to autopsy and meet with Ducky.

"Hey, Duckman, how's the leg doing?"

"Oh, hello, Abby! It's much better, thank you. What brings you down here?" he smiled broadly.

Abby threw her arms around Ducky's neck. "Oh, Ducky, I'm gonna miss you so much. I wish you weren't retiring." The ME smiled and returned the embrace.

"Oh, dear Abigail, I'll miss you, too, but you'll see me around. I plan to travel, who knows...maybe write a book of my adventures, but I'll be around to check on you and the others. After all, I have no intentions of hiding in my house to wither away like some old man. This is really the right choice to make at this point in time." He chuckled."Now, once again, what brings you down to my inner sanctum?"

"Gibbs has asked me to organize your retirement party and I needed to know when your last day will be so I can plan the date and get the notices out."

"Why, how sweet and thoughtful of you, Abby. My last day will be Friday, December 4. By then the new ME will be hired and have had a few days to come in and get oriented to the place before I leave."

"Great!" Abby replied enthusiastically. "Then is it okay if we plan the party for Thursday, the third?"

"Why that would be grand, my dear, thank you."

"Okay, Ducky, December third it is." Giving Dr. Mallard a quick kiss on the cheek she turned and practically skipped to the elevator. While she wasn't happy about her Ducky leaving, she did so love a party, especially if she was the one planning it.

November 30

The last two weeks were rather routine for all. No new cases had come in and team Gibbs was catching up on paper work or finishing up on details of recent cases. Down in autopsy Dr. Mallard and Jimmy Palmer were finally able to complete a long overdue inventory check and make sure all files were up to date in preparation for the new ME.

"Jimmy, I want to tell you how much I appreciate you taking up the slack for me this past couple of weeks while my leg was healing."

"Thank you, Dr. Mallard." Palmer paused for a moment thinking about what he was going to say next. "You know, Dr. Mallard, I really appreciate all of the help you have given me in preparing for my classes. I've learned so much from you. Well, I just wanted you to know how much I will miss you."

"It has been my pleasure, young man," Ducky responded warmly. He really did like his young assistant and cared deeply for him. He knew that Jimmy Palmer would make a very good medical examiner. "Jimmy, I think it's time that we drop the formalities. Please call me Ducky, after all, all of my friends do."

Jimmy looked up in surprise, "Yes, sir, Dr. Malla...er.., Ducky. Thank you."

The phone in autopsy rang. Ducky walked over and answered it. "Autopsy....Yes, Jethro, we're on our way." He hastily wrote down the address and turned to Jimmy. "Well, Jimmy, it looks like we have some work to do. Some poor soul seems to have wrapped his car around a tree. Here's the address, try not to get us lost, my dear boy." He looked at Jimmy and clasped his shoulder warmly smiling at their inside joke.

The scene of the accident had been taped off by the local police. The officer on duty approached Special Agent Gibbs and introduced himself. "Normally we wouldn't have called your people, Special Agent Gibbs for just a traffic accident, but the victim looked like he may have been shot and one of the neighbors said they heard a shot just before the car crashed into the tree. Plus we could see what looks like drug paraphernalia in on the floor of the backseat. The narcotics squad is waiting for you guys to finish so they can begin their investigation."

"Thank you, Officer Mendez. Have your people looked for the possible shooter and secured the area?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. As soon as my people are finished, then your folks can get in here and start cleaning up. Have you handled the body at all?"

"No, as soon as we saw that this was more than a mere accident we roped off the area and called you."

Each member of the team set about doing his or her prescribed job. Dr. Mallard and Jimmy crawled into the car to examine the driver. A gun shot to the upper left quadrant of the chest could be seen.

"Tell me what you've got, Duck," Gibbs said.

"Well, Jethro, it looks like our poor boy was shot from his left as evidenced by an entry wound to the side of his upper left thoracic area. It looks like it may have severed a major artery or maybe even entered the heart judging by the amount of bleeding that I see. I don't see an exit wound so the bullet probably did a lot of ricocheting within his body causing even more damage. Of course, we'll know more when we get him home."

"Okay, Ducky. Are you ready to move him?"

"Just give us a few more minutes, Jethro, to finish the preliminary exam, then DiNozzo and Ziva can get a closer look at the vehicle."

Gibbs looked around to see which of his agents was closest. "McGee, help Palmer with the body. Duck, you let him help, okay?"

Dr. Mallard made eye contact with his friend and gave him knowing look of irritation. "Jethro, are you molly coddling, me?" Then he smiled and nodded at Gibbs, "Thanks, Jethro, although it's completely unnecessary."

"Yeah, I know, Duck, but humor me. Okay?" Gibbs laughed.

While the two younger men wrestled with the body, Dr. Mallard picked up the equipment and carried it back to the Medical Examiner investigation truck. Suddenly, a loud crack rang out. A cry was heard and one of the LEOs fell to the ground. All law enforcement and NCIS personnel took cover, and those who carried them drew their weapons. It seemed to come from the row of houses across from the park.

Another two shots in rapid succession cracked and another person dropped.

"Shit, I thought you said your guys had the area secured!" Gibbs yelled to Mendez.

Another shot was fired. The attacker was targeting anything that moved.

"Perp on the roof of the yellow house!" yelled DiNozzo. All eyes turned that way, but something from another direction caught Ducky's eye as he took cover behind the truck.

"Oh my God!" he whispered as a cold chill ran down his spine. Approaching the scene was a little girl about seven years old riding her bicycle completely unaware of the drama unfolding in front of her.

The shooter saw the girl. Ducky saw him raise up and aim in her direction. Without hesitation Ducky left the shelter of the truck and ran to the little girl, knocked her off her bike and covered her with his body. He heard the shot and felt a crushing impact as the bullet entered his back. He never cried out, but whispered to the little girl in a tight pained voice, "It's okay, sweetheart, stay here until my friends can help. Shhh, don't cry." And then he was silent.

At the same instant the perpetrator raised up to shoot, Gibbs and his agents fired as one. The suspect had taken his last shot, and his last breath.

"DiNozzo, David... go check it out."

No one had seen who or where the intended target was as the ME truck blocked their view.

There was a brief silence then a wail could be heard. A little girl was crying. Gibbs looked down the street to locate the source of the sound. His breath caught in his throat, he felt like he had just been punched in the stomach, the air knocked out of him. Lying half in the sidewalk, half in the street was the very still form of Ducky. His arms and upper torso shielding a very scared little girl.

"Ducky!" he gasped. "Oh, dear God, not Ducky." It was as close to a prayer that Gibbs had come in a very long time. "No!" Then a little louder, "No, Ducky, no!"

He ran toward his old friend. The other's stopped when they heard their boss call Ducky's name and also ran in that direction. They couldn't see what had happened, but Gibb's body language said it all.

The little girl's sobs quieted when Gibbs picked her up and handed her to Palmer to have him check him over. He knelt down and gently held Ducky's shoulders and turned him over resting the ME's head in his lap.

Ducky's pale face was drawn. Blood seeped from his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs.

"Is she safe?" his voice barely audible.

Gibbs choked back a sob, "Yeah, Duck, she's safe. Don't talk, an ambulance will be here soon."

"No time, Jethro" Blood frothed at his mouth. " My lung ...punctured. Probably...._cough_..._gasp_...artery nicked."

"Shh, we'll get you to a hospital and get you patched up, Duck. Just sit still and save your strength. I've got your six." His eyes welled with tears. He didn't even try to wipe them away.

"Jethro, listen to me..._cough_..it's..._cough_...okay. I have... no regrets. I wasn't going to let, couldn't let ... that bastard shoot her." Ducky grabbed Gibbs arms. "It was... my choice." Another coughing fit racked his body, Ducky looked into Gibb's face, smiled, then slowly the light in the faded blue eyes dimmed, and he was gone.

**A/N: The next chapter is the last. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Boss, we need to let them take Ducky. They'll take good care of him," McGee gently urged.

"Gibbs let us help you get him into the ambulance," offered DiNozzo.

Gibbs looked up to see his agents looking down at him with sadness. At first he was going to refuse their offer, but realized that Ducky was their friend as well, and they needed to feel they could do something for him. He nodded, wiping his eyes with a sleeve.

"Thanks guys, Ziva." Together they gently lifted their friend's body onto a gurney and and wheeled it over to the ambulance. Before sliding the gurney in, Ziva offered a prayer in Hebrew.

DiNozzo touched the doctor's arm and gave it a quick squeeze. "Say hello to Kate, for me, Ducky." He turned quickly and walked away.

McGee, at a loss for words, simply looked down and held his friend's hand in his, gave it a quick squeeze before turning away. Gibbs paused the longest. With a shaking hand he ran his fingers through Ducky's hair, leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

The EMT's closed the doors and drove off.

Gibbs had delayed calling Abby. When McGee questioned him pointing out that she should be told, Gibbs just looked at him wearily. "Tim, there is no one there to support her when she hears the news. She and Ducky were close. We need to be there for her when she finds out."

**Later that afternoon:**

"Hey, Gibbs! I'm glad you're back! I'm just finishing up on the details for Ducky's party!"

"Abbs..., Gibbs faltered, looked down at the floor, then tried again. "Abbs, have a seat. There's something I need to tell you."

"Okay," she said hesitantly and studied his face. "Gibbs? What's wrong?"

He looked up at the ceiling, willing the tears in his eyes to not fall. Then he looked at Abby,

"Ducky's gone, Abbs. He's dead."

Her hands flew up to her mouth to stifle a cry. "Oh, no, Gibbs. You must be wrong. Ducky's retiring on Friday. We have the big party planned for him, what do you mean he's gone?" She jumped up from her chair and pushed Gibbs. "Don't joke about things like that! It's not funny."

Gibbs grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him. "It's true, Abbs, Ducky was shot while protecting a little girl."

Abby looked up at him and saw the truth in his haunted eyes. "Oh, Gibbs, I can't believe it."

Gibbs pulled her into a tight embrace and stroked her hair, "I know Abby, I know..." He held her for a long time before giving her a kiss on her cheek and letting her go. Let's go up to the bull pen and see the others, this is no time to be alone."

Up in the bullpen the mood was glum. The members of the team were sitting at their desks, lost in their own thoughts. They all looked up when the elevator doors slid open and stood to greet Abby and offer hugs of support.

Gibbs waited until they were finished and then spoke. "I want everyone to go home and take tomorrow off. I will be making arrangements for Ducky's memorial service. There won't be an autopsy since we know what happened and we were witnesses. Duck had already made arrangements to be cremated. I'm thinking it would be fitting to have the service on Friday, the day that was to be his last day at NCIS."

There were exchanged glances and then murmurs of agreement. Ziva, Abby, Tony, and McGee gathered their coats and hats and left together then went their separate ways once they got to the parking garage.

Gibbs went directly home. Turning on his kitchen light, he wearily dropped his pack, took out a large manila envelope from its largest pocket and carried it downstairs into the basement. Throwing it down on the workbench he grabbed a jarful of nails, upended it and poured it half full with bourbon. He picked up the sander and began rhythmically smoothing the grain of wood on the ribs of the boat as silent tears ran down his face.

Two thirds of a bottle of bourbon later, Gibbs stopped working on the boat and finally found the nerve to pick up the envelope he had brought downstairs. On the front, written in Ducky's fancy script was the word, "Jethro". He opened it letting the contents spill out onto the workbench and picked up the handwritten note on top.

"_Jethro,_

_If you are reading this, then it must be assumed that my death is immenent or has already occurred. If it happened in the line of duty, then I know you are more than likely blaming yourself. Please don't. We cannot control our fate, dear friend. _

_I have lived a good , no..a wonderful life and I have no regrets. Some of my friends may ask if I regret not having my own family. Once I would have said yes. But you and the others have become my family, and I have loved and cared deeply for each and everyone of you._

_Most of all Jethro, I value your friendship. We have had so many adventures together and shared both good times and sorrows. _

_Now it's time for you to move on, Jethro. Miss me, if you are so inclined, but please do not grieve for me. I would not want that. Life goes on, Jethro. How is goes on is your choice to make._

_Best regards,_

_Ducky_

Gibbs picked up the envelope and through freely flowing tears saw a second page laying under it. He picked it up. It was typed from an old typewriter. At the top was a note: "Jethro, this might help. Ducky."

He read the page, and read it again. Then after drying his tears laid it down. He raised his glass, smiled, and said, "Cheers, Duck!"

**December 4th:**

The gathering at the private memorial service was modest in size. Of course, team Gibbs was there, Director Vance, the Secretary of the Navy, Tobias Fornell, and some of Ducky's friends and colleagues from around the country were in attendance as well.

The minister led the group through the litany of the service, and gave a homily. A bagpiper played "Amazing Grace". Then it was Gibb's turn to offer a eulogy. Slowly he walked up to the podium. As he looked out among those attending, he saw Tim's arm around Abby's shoulder, both openly weeping. Ziva held back her tears, but accepted Tony's offered hand and held it tightly. Tobias discretely wiped a tear or two from his eyes while Director Vance blew his nose quietly into a handkerchief.

And he began:

"Dr. Donald Mallard was a dear friend. Not only to me, but to most of you. We all knew him to be a giving, kind, and gentle soul. His selflessness is what we will remember. He thought of others above himself up until the moment he was taken from us. Because of his selfless actions last Monday, a young girl is alive today.

"I thought for a long time how I could put into words about how we will miss him, but Ducky knew I would have trouble and left me this poem. I think you will find it says it all." Clearing his throat he read:

"**Gone from My Sight" by Henry Van Dyke**

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,

spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts

for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck

of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,

hull and spar as she was when she left my side.

And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me – not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"

there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices

ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying...

On cue, the bagpiper began playing, "Scottland the Brave" bringing a smile to many faces.

Gibbs looked skyward, "Good bye, Ducky."

**A/N This has been my first and probably only fanfic. I have enjoyed writing it and hope you have enjoyed it as well. As alwaysI would love to receive some reviews including any constructive thoughts.**

**I have seen the above poem by Henry Van Dyke with different titles ("The Ship" and "Gone from My Sight") If any readers know the actual title I would like to know.**


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